Have a Little Faith
by KingOfJacks
Summary: Perhaps Epsilon really had just needed to take his own advice...And have a little faith.


"_There are so many stories where some brave hero decides to give their life to save the day, and because of their sacrifice, the good guys win, the survivors all cheer, and everybody lives happily ever after. But the hero... never gets to see that ending. They'll never know if their sacrifice actually made a difference. They'll never know if the day was really saved. In the end... they just have to have faith. Ain't that a bitch?"_

Epsilon sighed, his holographic form hovering just in front of the yellow visor of Tucker's new suit. He imagined, for a moment, the face that lay behind it, frozen in a moment of exultant joy. He would never see that face again after today - after this moment. Taking a moment to sweep his gaze across the room, he allowed himself to realize that...he would never see any of their faces again.

"End recording, D." His shoulders sagged. "And begin deconstruction."

"_I am sorry,"_ Delta argued, alighting in the air beside him. His voice was the same unmovable calm it always was, carrying with it a tone that Epsilon always heard in _italics_. "_But I must disagree with this course of action."_

"_Delta,"_ Epsilon stressed, sighing again. "There isn't another choice. You know I can't run the suit. There's too much equipment in it."

"_On the contrary, I could not run this suit. Theta could not run this suit. Sigma could not this suit."_ Delta continued to speak without inflection, but there was a certain significance added to each of his examples. "_You can run this suit. You are Leonard Church."_

"I'm not the Alpha!" Epsilon snapped "I'm just a piss-poor copy! And we don't have time for this!"

To prove his point, the last spout of flames glistening brightly at the corner of the office's door disappeared. In a few milliseconds, the door would pop off its hinges, and the battle would begin. If Epsilon wasn't deconstructed by that time, the Meta's suit would fail, Tucker would die, and the Reds and Blues would lose their best combatant in the hardest fight of their lives. He needed to do this _now!_

"_You don't,"_ Delta argued, knowing his thoughts as intimately as he knew his own. Which...yeah, they technically had the same thoughts so that made sense. "_You should trust your sense of logic, Epsilon. It has not failed you yet."_

"Delta," Epsilon stressed for the last time, irritation lining his voice. "If I try to run this suit, I will fail. I'm _not_ Alpha. I'm not even Beta! If I try to do this, I'll-"

An infograph appeared, hovering statically beside Delta's glowing form as he said, "_You currently have a 58% chance of running the Meta's suit at full capacity and surviving the coming battle."_

The first of a multitude of metallic pops echoed throughout the room - the first of many that would signal the door's violent removal. The sound grated on Epsilon's ears. Further proof he didn't have the time to argue with himself.

Still...why did he have to make it so damn _easy_ to argue with himself?

"What kind of fucked up math are you using, D!?" Epsilon cried. "I've got my odds at less than a percent!"

"_You are not factoring in...extraneous variables."_

"_What_ extraneous variables?" Epsilon ground out.

Delta turned, nodding in the direction of Tucker's frozen form, the arm of which had moved a few inches in the ensuing milliseconds, so as to better intercept the first onslaught of bullets with a controlled use of the bubble shield. It would work, Epsilon realized. Centralizing the bubble shield to an individual location would drastically reduce the power requirements to run it. If Tucker kept it attached to his wrist, he'd have an effective way to defend against the three grenade launchers primed to fire outside the door. The suit would retain 96% of its power, more than enough to utilise the other abilities it had stored there. Epsilon would have to ensure Tucker kept the shield running for better -

Epsilon cut himself off with a growl. This wasn't his job! His fragments would carry Tucker to victory! Better than he ever could! Without bias! Without attachment! Tucker, Caboose, Grif - _all of them_ would be safer with this course of action!

"_Safer, perhaps,"_ Delta conceded. "_But not happier."_

"Better sad than dead," Epsilon growled.

Delta tilted his head. "_Did you know that the Counselor concluded that Agent North performed an average of 38.7% better in the field when Agent South was in immediate danger?"_

"So. What?" Epsilon continued to grind his teeth. Three more pops echoed throughout the room in short succession. The middle of the door was beginning to cave inward, evidence of the surefooted kick that had dislodged it on the other side.

"_You have known Lavernius Tucker for just shy of a decade now,"_ Delta told him. "_The same goes for Caboose. And Grif. And Sarge. And all of them."_

"Delta, if you don't get to the **point!**" Epsilon snapped, an air of Omega's voice leaking into his own as anger overrode his control. Just as he had always heard Delta in _italics_, Omega had always come across somewhat...**bold**.

"_My point,"_ Delta stressed, "_is that these are your friends. Lavernius Tucker has been with you since the beginning. Since before you befriended the Reds. Since before Agent Texas' arrival at Blood Gulch. Since before even Caboose's arrival."_

Epsilon said nothing, watching as the infograph hovering beside Delta began to change, the percentage of his success slowly climbing, number by number. It was at 60% now. Epsilon frowned.

"_Michael J. Caboose, as...special a case as he may be, has likewise been your constant and most loyal companion. He has stood by you through everything, and always sought after your best interests. How many times has he saved your life? Or otherwise ensured your continued survival?"_

"About as many times as he's ended it," Epsilon groused, even as Delta's infograph climbed to 63%.

"_Dexter Grif was your first true friend among the Reds. An individual you could trust and admire in an army you were meant to be against." _65%. "_Sarge, a dedicated military commander who has led his men and yours into battle in your name more times than you can count." _68% "_Franklin Donut, a compatriot and a martyr for your causes." _72% "_Lopez the Heavy, who has shouldered the burden of your adventures at great cost to himself." _76% "_Franklin Donut. Frank DuFresne. Richard Simmons. All of these men who have fought and bled and hurt and lost and died in service to their friendship with you." _83%. "_And that is not to mention the love for your sister, Carolina, which has grown stronger than your love for anyone. What devastation might she feel at your loss?" _90%. "_Or, perhaps, if all of that fails, you might remember Agent Texas. And, in the parlance of you and your friends, 'the swift kick in the ass' she might give you for giving up as easily as this." _100%.

Epsilon sighed. The door was off its hinges now, light pouring into the room from the hallway. Two heads of Charon soldiers were visible, the squaring of their shoulders evidence of the way they had their weapons trained, ready to fire. Behind him and to his right, Sarge's shotgun echoed in a sudden blast, a premature fire that was quintessentially 'Sarge'.

"You know," he said wryly, "this isn't very scientific."

"_I am aware,"_ Delta said, as dryly as Delta was capable of saying. "_Sometimes, you just have to have a little faith."_

Theta appeared in a blaze of blue and red light, laughing joyously and saying, "Oh, I get it! It's like a callback!" Yeah, Theta's thoughts always came with a certain...undertone to them. It was just the way his voice came across. To him, anyway. Man, the thoughts of artificial intelligence constructs were _weird_.

"Yeah thanks, Theta, I got that part," Epsilon said dryly, willing the childish personality away as he shook his head. Epsilon gave a final defeated sigh that really wasn't all that defeated. "Alright, D. We'll try it your way."

Epsilon vanished, disappearing into the control matrix of the Meta's suit. Time reverted, an explosion echoed throughout the room, accompanied by an overzealous shotgun blast that shattered the visor of the first Charon soldier. And Tucker burst into action, carrying the cry of victory in his voice.

Perhaps Epsilon really had just needed to take his own advice…

...And have a little faith.

**A/N: The AI Fragments are my favorite part of Red Vs Blue and the ending of Season 13, despite its beautiful writing, is arguably my least favorite part of the show because it kills off my favorite character. I hope I have properly captured the personalities of everyone involved, and let me know if you'd like to see more AI adventures from me.**


End file.
